I’ve known a lot of vegetarians. I was engaged to one once (technically “pre-engaged,” whatever the hell that means). And you know, I don’t think I’ve ever met one I didn’t like. I’ve met some I thought were full of $#!%, but none I didn’t like. I like some hunters who are also full of $#!%.
It’s fun to bust on vegetarians, and they usually take it well. Especially fun are the easy marks, the ones who say, “I’m a vegetarian but I eat fish.” We had a vegetarian friend over to dinner recently who said, “I’m a vegetarian but I eat fish and chicken,” which made me think of a line from The Princess Bride: “I do not think it means what you think it means.”
One perceptive— and perhaps a little lucky— reader will soon hear the rumble of a delivery truck, carrying his spanking new Bowtech Invasion CPX compound bow. Is it you? Well let’s see now...
The actual gross B&C scores of the four bucks shown are as follows:
Buck #2, taken by Jayson Nunn, goes 155 1/8. (I know, I guessed too low, too. The downward angle makes this tall and tight rack look smaller than it actually is—but we verified the score twice. Also, Nunn, I’m told, is a big boy, whose presence in a photo makes any buck’s rack look smaller. I’m seriously impressed at how many of you put him in the high 140s to mid 150s.)
I’ve been meaning to bring this up, as there’s been some disagreement on the subject in your comments here and on other blogs—which is no surprise really, when you consider that different states have different definitions. Some define it as taking game illegally, others more broadly as hunting or fishing illegally. The Michigan DNR actually offers both definitions: “Poacher - a person who hunts, traps, or fishes illegally. Poaching - the illegal taking of fish or wildlife.” Go figure.
Dictionary definitions likewise vary. In a hunting context, Merriam-Webster’s online dictionary defines “poacher” as “one who kills or takes wild animals (as game or fish) illegally.” My Webster’s New World bound copy has “poaching” as, “to hunt or catch (game or fish) illegally….”
I favor the broader definition. A person should not have to be successful in his attempt to kill game illegally to be called a poacher.
This is Whitetail 365, so let me say first that when I barged into the wooded creek bottom, I sent a doe and fawn careening through the skunk cabbages. There. The sun was up. The tom wouldn’t stay on the roost for long. So I shot down the slope, hopped the creeklet, scrambled up the far side, and called. Too late. He barked at eighty yards and incoming.
In mid-January I was asked to serve as a judge at the Midwest Call Making competition, held each year in Wisconsin. The contest, the country’s second-largest (the annual NWTF show is bigger), attracts some of America’s top competitive call makers. Contestants enter turkey and waterfowl calls in two divisions; working calls (judged entirely on sound quality and performance), and decorative calls (which mainly look pretty, but they’re also required to make sound). I was one of five judges in the decorative division.
A duck-hunting post on Whitetail 365? I know. Sorry. I couldn’t help myself.
I’m just feeling so badly for Bourjaily and DiBenedetto. Those poor guys. And it just so happens that this morning I took F&S Managing Editor Jean McKenna to my favorite local marsh, which was lousy with woodies and teal the day before she came. (Just as the turkeys were gobbling like crazy just before she arrived this past spring. And the deer were feeding early just prior to her showing up last fall.) But as Jean drove north with her camo and waders and usual tough luck, a sleet-and-snow storm deposited a couple inches and sent the most of those early ducks packing.
I know some of you are putting in your fall food plots now, and I just want to remind you to put down a little bird seed while you’re at it. Yes, bucks will be attracted to your rye grass, winter oats, and brassicas—but don’t underestimate the drawing power of thrushes, vireos, and warblers.
Actually, they are just more educated, but that doesn’t make as good a headline. Besides you’d never know they were better schooled judging by how well all you deer hunters did on this little quiz. As a group, you got only one wrong. Here are the answers, according to data taken from the National Shooting Sports Foundation’s 2009-2010 Industry Reference Guide (available at nssf.org/research/IRG/).
[1] How old is the average deer hunter? Fifty-seven percent of you said 43.3 and that is correct. You know, I’d bet that the average small game hunter was significantly younger than the average deer hunter back when I was kid. Not any more. According to the survey, they are both a tad over 43 years old. The youngest are fox hunters, at 37.5.
It happens to families everywhere. Little Johnny’s parents want him to play the bassoon, but Little Johnny wants to play the drums. You give your kid a grunt call, but they don’t stick with it. You try to explain that subtlety is a virtue, but they’re drawn to sheer volume. You know the grunt will be your kid’s constant companion eventually (and that it’s pretty much the only call you can give them to wail on right now without making your spouse hate you). But it’s no good. The grunt is the bassoon of game calls. No volume. No flash.